Internecine
by Psych0h0l1c
Summary: Suigetsu and Hidan. Two bloodthirsty shinobi with a penchant for mayhem, mischief, and massive weapons. This is what happens when blood mixes with water.
1. Deep-six

_"Can't you see what this pain has fucking done to me_

 _I'm alive and still kickin'_

 _I'm alive for you_

 _I'm awake because of you_

 _I'm alive I told you_

 _I'm awake"_

 **Godsmack/"Awake"**

* * *

Hidan has begun a steady spiral into the abyss of insanity.

The hole. The __fucking hole__. He has no idea how long he's been in here. The earth's damp chill has long since crept deep into his body, gripping his aching bones with claws of ice. Everything is black as a moonless night. The sun's blissful warmth and shimmering light have all but vanished from his memory. Worms, centipedes, and other insects slither and crawl across his limbs, the ones near his head poking curiously at his orifices, and he can't shoo them away no matter how hard he tries. They bite, they sting, their minuscule legs and antennae pricking and brushing against his flesh as they seek for an opening to delve into and feast upon him from the inside out.

Thinking, thinking, thinking. It's maddening, all this time and all this silence just to __think__. Jashin, Kakuzu, overdue sacrifices, praying, and food all swarm his brain. Also, when he thinks of that fucking Nara kid, revenge. Murder. Fury. It keeps him occupied for as long as he can stand to dwell on what is now lost and slowly becoming unfamiliar to him. This, in itself, is terrifying. Nothing has ever terrified him before, for Hidan is a man who cannot be killed, and thus he does not even fear death. Because of this, the revelation rattles him to his very core.

When he wants to escape the cycle of torment that is his mind, he talks to himself. He recalls all the lands he's been to, counts all the sacrifices he's ever made, reminisces about his life before the Akatsuki. Curses the heathens in said organization. Damns the leader of it for proclaiming to be a god, as no one but the mighty Lord Jashin is fit to be acknowledged as so by Hidan. Once he's sick of spewing dark oaths, he calls names. Kakuzu, Deidara, Sasori, Itachi, Kisame, Tobi, Zetsu. He whispers them. He mutters them. He yells them. He screams them, until his throat is raw and painful, until his voice cracks and fades, until every last shred of his energy is sapped and he's rendered exhausted and gasping for breath. Then, for the first time in his life since he was a child, Hidan cries. __Fucking help me. Get me out of here, goddamn it. Please.__ ** _ **Please**_**...

No one ever comes for him.

He aspires for the sweet release of death more than anything, __especially__ now; all he's ever truly wanted is to be one with Jashin, and yet the thought of allowing himself to starve in order to die and attain that dream is...abhorrent. But the pain and suffering of the aforementioned is completely different from that of bodily harm. Contrasted with the wracking cramps of famine, being decapitated was a stroll in the meadow for him. So, subdued by his body's vehement demands for nourishment, he chomps off what he can of the insects that get too close to his mouth. It's repulsive. The taste, texture, and the mere notion of what he's doing make him gag and retch and for the slightest second his resolve to survive vacillates, but he forces himself to swallow. He thinks of it as a form of revenge, in a way – __they try to eat me, so I eat them__ – and it helps.

Rarely, moles will bump their noses into him and scrabble their claws against his cheek in an attempt to turn and resume their tunneling expedition. Hidan almost relishes their soft, warm touch, the first sensation of another living being other than bugs in such comforting proximity to him, that he doesn't want to think about what's coming next. What he has to do to them in order to __survive__. He wants to laugh at this new and foreign emotion, this lack of apathy, this desire for anything other than complete carnage – __sympathy__. He actually doesn't want to hurt the tiny animals.

But the muffled grumbling of his stomach somewhere in the gloom urges him to quell his weak thoughts. __Lord Jashin would not approve.__ So, if the moles are close enough for him to sink his teeth into, he strikes. Bones pop and crack beneath his molars and fuzzy fur tickles his palate. Then the blood rushes into his mouth and his initial hesitation is swept away by a wave of yearning, and obstreperous gourmandizing subsequently ensues. Raw meat is far better than bugs, and he devours almost every last bite of it with the exception of the claws. He senses his curse technique activating every time he eats.

For water, he gets a small amount from his meals, but then he has to wait until it rains – which happens few and far between – and seeps down to him so he can suck what moisture he's able to out of the soil. It doesn't amount to much but it's enough to keep his mouth wet. Acquiring sustenance may be burdensome, but it – somehow, even though his head is disconnected from the rest of his body – maintains his health, albeit below optimal. It's truly bizarre how his immortality works, but he's never questioned Lord Jashin before.

After his initial panic regarding his plight, the silence and darkness was calming, even somnifacient. It soothed his incessant raging, sopiting him with its clammy caress. Once he awoke, he assumed it was merely a bad dream – or, dare he say, a nightmare – yet when he opened his eyes he was greeted by the color black. Nothing but __black__. Upon his further investigation with mounting anxiety, not even the tiniest specks of auspicious light could be seen. Mud clung to his skin, the squelching of various insects squirming nearby the only thing he could detect, and with it came the crippling weight of reality that sat its enormous rear atop his chest, crushing his ribs and smashing his lungs, rendering his breathing a struggle with each inhalation. His heartbeat was audible even through feet of soil – a corybantic throbbing of trepidation that shook his severed torso with every pulse.

He was still here.

...

The first voice he'd heard since the day he had ended here is a burst of refreshing hope, a flash of white illumination that slashes the blanket of darkness in two when rancorous thoughts had been putrefying in his brain just moments before. It's extremely faint, but it's definitely a voice. Paired with the slightest of vibrations far above him, the noise travels through the yards of earth to his dirt-clogged ears. Is someone digging him out? __Kakuzu!?__

Elated, he tries yelling his partner's name, but soil falls into his mouth, much to his aggravation. All he can do is grunt loudly and frantically and hope his rescuer has highly acute hearing.

After only a short while, he tires and ceases his din, but the noises and vibrations above continue, so his hope escalates, and he's more than content to simply wait it out. The suffocating weight of the soil lessens bit by bit, and it takes hours before the voice can be more clearly heard. Now Hidan can distinguish two of them, chatting and bickering back and forth. One is light and easygoing and the other gravelly and irritable.

 _ _Wait.__ He recognizes both...

"Ah, there you are, Hidan-san."

Zetsu.

Jōzetsu's tone is cheerful as he grins at the Jashinist after brushing off a pile of dirt from his spitting head. Dazzling, balmy sunshine, the first of which Hidan has experienced in so long, kisses his frigid skin with its golden rays, but stings his eyes. He squints them to peer up at the cannibal.

"Fucking... _ _finally!__ " he gasps, his voice hoarse and ragged, verging on a sob. "What t- _ _took__ you so long?" Immense relief swamps him at the sight of the one Akatsuki member whose guts he detests, yet in that very moment he fancies enveloping him in a rib-crushing hug and perhaps even pecking him on the cheek in his delirium – if he had any arms, that is. The next thing out of his mouth is something that had been constantly niggling in the back of his mind since he'd been buried. "Where's Kakuzu?"

Zetsu turns away, ignoring him. He reaches down to pick up one of Hidan's severed arms. "Wrong one," he mutters to himself. "It must be around here somewhere..."

" ** **Here****." The other arm is on the far side of the pit, smashed between two boulders in the wall, the hand dangling. Zetsu slips the ring off of its left index finger. " ** **A day and a half of digging, all for this**** ," Dokuzetsu snorts.

"Hey... I'm talkin' to you!" Hidan manages to raise his voice to get the bi-colored man's attention. "Where's Kakuzu!?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Zetsu blinks. "Oh, he's dead," he says laconically. "I thought you knew."

Nonplussed for a heartbeat, Hidan's startled expression quickly scrunches into a frown. "Not funny."

" ** **I'm serious****." Zetsu shuffles back toward him. " ** **The nine-tails jinchūriki Uzumaki Naruto supposedly killed him with a very powerful move, a forbidden jutsu. Unfortunately I wasn't able to record the battle**** – it sounded like it was an awesome sight to see."

Fresh anger boils within Hidan, a welcome emotion long forgotten in the aftermath of his madness. "There ain't __no__ fuckin' way that stupid little snot-nosed brat killed him, jinchūriki or not!" he bursts out. "You're lying to me, you damned weed!"

"He's-"

"Kakuzu's old as shit so he's got way more experience than all those geezers in the councils put together," Hidan continues emphatically. It's wonderful to be able to rant again, to speak to someone other than himself. He revels in the feeling and starts to prate, unable – and, admittedly, unwilling – to stop the movement of his mouth. "Hell, his biceps are bigger than that kid's head; he could punch a hole through his fuckin' face if he wanted! __And__ -"

Zetsu intervenes. "Hidan-san, we're not lying. It's as shocking to us as it is to you that he's dead." Shaking his head, he pockets Hidan's ring and sighs. "I'd show you his grave, but... ** **we're leaving you here****."

It's almost as if he'd backhanded Hidan across the face. The priest gapes dumbly, stupefied; he isn't sure he'd heard the cannibal correctly. "...What?"

"Leader says you're useless to the organization now, both without Kakuzu-san and in this state, to boot." Zetsu gestures to the scattering of severed limbs about the area. " ** **It'd be difficult to find someone capable of reassembling you, and assuming that you being dismembered is a constant occurrence, it'll be too much trouble for you to remain a member****. So, in short, you're free to go... ** **if you can get out of this hole, that is****."

A livid glare warps Hidan's face. The anger blossoms into pure, unadulterated outrage that floods his system, a powerful sensation akin to fire searing his skin. "Just wait until I __do__ , you piece of shit," he spits, lips writhing. "I'll __flay__ you. You and that arrogant dick who thinks he's a god. __All__ of you fucking heathens! Lord Jashin will enjoy your mangled bodies as prime sacrifices! You-"

"All you ever do is spout religious nonsense," Zetsu scoffs, interrupting Hidan's harangue as he waves a dismissive hand. " ** **You got yourself into this mess. If it weren't for Kakuzu's countless interventions you would have been a helpless pile of limbs from the beginning.**** But now he's gone, and you're here..." He approaches the snarling head, slowly leaning down. His golden eyes are lambent in the shadows and his lips curl into a cruel leer, bizarrely rounded teeth gleaming. " ** **Where is your god**** _ _ **now**__ ** **, priest?**** "

...

Evidently his god was watching over him as always.

A day after Zetsu had left, Jashin had, finally, bestowed upon Hidan his divine hand and reattached his most faithful disciple, freeing him from his dirt cell while he slept; he awoke lying on the grass beside the lip of the hole, newly polished scythe in hand and gleaming amulet around his neck. Hidan was ecstatic, fervently lauding and brushing off Jashin's long absence merely as the god punishing him for being so careless to get himself in such a predicament, turning the other cheek as if his countless days of tribulation were nothing.

He's incredibly sore, stiff, and exhausted, but he's __alive__. He's __free__. And in this moment, that's all that matters to him. __Suck it, you stupid green-haired freak!__

Once he finishes a bout of praying, he spends over an hour touching himself everywhere, running his hands over his grimy skin and through his disheveled hair, wiggling his toes and flexing his fingers, reveling in the sensation of being able to move and feel once again. He skims his hands across the soft, lush grass and grabs handfuls of the leaves and vines hanging above him.

Staggering to his feet is an entirely different situation than sitting. While still retaining his lean, powerful physique, it's less muscle than he'd had before. His ribs are visible through the taut skin of his chest and his cheeks feel hollow beneath his touch with what little food he's had access to underground. He's shaky, imbalanced, and still weak even after eating, but once he starts to walk he soon becomes more stable and sure of his movements.

He finds a tiny brook and guzzles water until he feels sick, then washes himself thoroughly. Being clean once again feels positively marvelous. Water ignites the spark of hunger and he forages for berries, nuts, and even more insects until he's satisfied. Afterwards, he sprawls in the grass and watches clouds ghost across the azure sky until he drifts into a heavy slumber.

His dreams are, for once, peaceful. They are not about slaughter, which was about as peaceful as his dreams could muster before being buried. Kakuzu, strangely, makes an appearance in one of them; Hidan can vaguely recall seeing the tall bronze-skinned man standing quietly – nearly unobtrusive – at the edge of his vision, his long mocha hair ruffling at the ends in a light breeze. Those fierce emerald eyes gaze blankly into Hidan's once the priest looks at him, yet he does not speak. Merely, Kakuzu turns away and melts silently into the woods. Hidan understands this vision. Kakuzu had acknowledged the end of their relationship like he would acknowledge anything other than money, with little rumination and even less concern. He is gone, his partner is left to do as he pleases, and that's that.

Later, Hidan dreams about sweets, enthusiastically stuffing his face while sugar smears along his chin and coats his fingers. He dreams about meeting Jashin, who praises him for his unwavering faith and bountiful sacrifices in his name, and anoints him as his preeminent apostle. He dreams about standing in an endless meadow teeming with flowers of all colors of the rainbow, the sun beaming down upon his shoulders.

He dreams about happiness.

Something soft and wet nudging his foot jolts him awake. His irritable reaction is reflexive, snarling inwardly at whatever dared interrupt his sleep as he sits up. __Worms. Fucking worms-__

It's a deer. A large tawny buck, with a set of impressive antlers that jut high and curve over its long, arched neck. Once Hidan starts, it flinches back and snorts in surprise. Hidan scowls at it.

"Oi, fuck off," he snaps, brandishing his scythe at the animal.

The buck needs no more incentive to leave and, flicking its tail up, spins on its hind legs to leap into the underbrush. Hidan listens to it crashing through the woods until the noise fades altogether, then huffs, flopping back down to resume his napping. But now he can't sleep, because, slithering out of a dark corner of his mind, those vengeful thoughts begin to unfurl once again.

Stretching luxuriously, his joints sound like popcorn kernels in a fire. Now he must show Jashin his overwhelming gratitude by indulging in a sacrificial rampage, which he will be doing with brimming alacrity. Sans his cloak, pants, and sandals, which had all been blown to bits and seared by the explosion that dealt him his final blow, Hidan nevertheless remains adamant to continue his mission. Nudity has never hindered him before. If anything, his lack of clothing will be sufficient to stun his victims for a short moment to make killing them easier. A wicked smirk cuts across his face.

Arms wide and shoulders shaking with a maniacal guffaw that scatters birds and echoes eerily around the trees, Hidan lunges into a breakneck sprint. His silver hair whips in the air as he dashes through the woodland like a madman, twigs lashing his skin, his scythe cleaving the earth behind him. His vibrant eyes are alight with gleeful rage and he sports a terrifying grin so wide that he feels his cheeks threaten to split. A herd of deer scatter as Hidan barrels toward them, their cloven hooves cutting deep into the earth and their white sclerae flashing as they bolt in fear. Surely their collective alarm will alert his target, as if his presence alone isn't already overwhelming, what with his murderous intent exuding through his chakra and engulfing him like a noxious smog. Oh, how the limbs will fly...and this time, they won't be his.

 _ _I'm gonna slaughter you...Nara Shikamaru.__

* * *

 **Author's note**

 **And that wraps up Hidan's side for now. Suigetsu is next! (Yes, I rewrote everything to make it darker, more somber, and added WAYYYYY more angst and suffering. :3c What do you think?)**

 **HEHEHEHEHEHEHE. Soon you all will know the pain of being one of the very few shippers of an awesome crack pairing consisting of two bloodthirsty shinobi with a penchant for massive weapons, AKA HidaSui. How has no one else thought of them being together? Like even as bros? I feel like they would be great friends, snarking and bantering and killing together... Ah, yes, a beautiful relationship.**

 **God I love them. Do I ever.**

 **Anyways, tell me whatcha think! Spelling errors? Mistakes? OOCness? What you liked/disliked about it? General thoughts? All is welcome!**


	2. Chapter 2

_First sacrifice._

This is Hidan's first thought the moment he explodes into the clearing when a white-haired teenage boy catches his eye.

The run had exhilarated him: his heart thunders against his ribcage and a copious amount of sweat had cut thick rivulets through his dirt-streaked skin. The fierce stinging of thorns embedded within multiple areas of his body and the relentless throbbing of his heels from sharp rocks and twigs were nearly unnoticeable beneath the heavy hum of energy lancing throughout his entire being. He releases a maniacal shriek to announce his arrival.

"How is this possible!?" A shout of panicky alarm in response hardly registers on Hidan's radar, and he doesn't even spare a glance at the man who had uttered it as he sweeps past. There's not a single instant of hesitation when he swerves directly toward the teen boy, who sits unawares upon a bench while chugging a bottle of water.

 _Not my main target, but he'll do._

The boy looks up sharply, alerted by the change in Hidan's path. He bolts upright and reaches back to grip the handle of a huge sword strapped to his back. Sunlight flashes down its side as he unsheathes it, aiming it at Hidan, who grins when he sees this and tenses his scythe-bearing arm in response. It's been ages since he's had a victim that fought back, and this boy looks promising. This'll be fun.

He swings his scythe around as soon as he's in range. The boy meets him halfway – eyeing his weapon with irises as purple as his are pink. He lets out a low, appreciative whistle.

"Nice scythe. I think I may take it from you."

"Just try it."

A small half-smile tugs at one corner of the boy's face. "If you insist."

Hidan is momentarily surprised to see fangs gleaming in the sunlight. "You Kisame's little brother or something?"

The boy's smile widens, revealing more jagged teeth. "I respect Kisame-senpai, but I gotta say – if you're not asking only 'cause I have sharp teeth, then frankly, I'm a bit offended," he says wryly.

Hidan snorts in amusement. _Yeah, he'll do just fine_. "Nah, you don't really look like a shark. More like...a piranha."

The boy chuckles. "Hey, I like that. Piranhas are cool." There's a short pause as his eyes flicker down, then back up. "...So, uh...are your clothes at the laundromat or something?"

"Heh." Hidan abruptly yanks his scythe away and the boy staggers forward a little at the loss of equilibrium. Spinning on his heel, he allows himself to whirl 160 degrees for momentum, swinging in a wide arc at the boy's midsection. "It's a long story."

To his confusion, the boy just stands there – he's actually smirking, too. Right as the tip of the scythe's top blade touches his purple shirt, that area ripples, and Hidan thinks his eyes are deceiving him as it turns pellucid. He blinks. _Genjutsu?_ Water bursts forth as the scythe slices all the way through his abdomen, _severing the boy in half_ as he _remains standing_. Confounded, Hidan watches the water gyrate in blobs in midair for a second before floating back to the boy and solidifying once again, no longer translucent.

The boy grins complacently at the priest's stunned expression. "Kisame-senpai couldn't do that, could he?"

So it's not a genjutsu. _Then does that mean-?_ Scowling, Hidan does not respond, instead aiming for the boy's neck this time. Again, his target liquefies. The boy continues to grin at him tauntingly. A single fang on the left side of his mouth juts out farther than the others.

Hidan is vexed. _Shit_.

"You done yet, Dracula?"

 _Huh!?_

"The hell you calling "Dracula?"" Hidan snaps, then launches a roundhouse kick at the boy in a fit of belligerence, foregoing techniques in favor of reacting out of anger. He knows what's going to happen, yet his temper has gotten the best of him and by now it's too late to halt the attack. His foot swishes through the boy's now watery chest, but as Hidan expects it to complete its route back out, the boy solidifies himself and the priest's transit is interrupted as he flops to the ground in an incredibly awkward position in an equally embarrassing manner.

"Fuck!" he spits, writhing in his struggle to free himself. "Let me go!"

"Yeeahhh, the feeling's mutual." The boy pulls a face and releases Hidan. "I don't really wanna be touching a weird naked dude either, but it was funny while it lasted."

With a soaked foot, Hidan angrily sneers at him as he snatches his scythe off of the ground and stands. "I don't have time for this," he growls, then turns and dashes into the woods leading towards the village without a backwards glance. _Sorry, Lord Jashin_ , he thinks irritably as he leaps through the branches. _I'll make one lost sacrifice up to you once I get some of Shadow Brat's blood..._

Only a few seconds pass before he senses someone else's chakra keeping pace with him nearby. He glances right and left, up and down, yet sees nothing. He turns forward again with a puzzled frown, and a massive sword slams down a foot from his face, chopping the branch in front of him in two. Splinters spray into the air and almond-shaped lilac eyes find his through the shower of wood.

"Aw, did I embarrass you?" the boy mocks, then swings his sword toward Hidan.

"Tch." Hidan blocks the attack with his scythe but finds he can't shove the boy away with one arm like with most opponents. _Damn, he's strong for a kid_. Using their locked weapons as balance, he propels himself off of the trunk of the tree he's standing on with a kick instead of striking at the boy. Landing on another branch several yards away, he says, "Fuck off, Piranha Boy. I got stuff I need to do."

The boy leaps after him and Hidan is forced to move again. "No can do, Dracula," he retorts. "That scythe is mine."

Launching away, the priest curls his lip – half irritated at the nickname and half irritated at being delayed from his goal. "Like you could take it from me," he jeers over his shoulder. "And what's with the "Dracula" shit?"

The boy ignores the first remark, following him to the next branch. Hidan eyes him warily, tensed to retaliate another attack, but the boy lowers his sword. His body language drawls "relaxed" as they run side by side. "How about "Nosferatu?""

"How about fucking _neither?_ "

The boy laughs. "Okay, so what's your name?"

"Like I'm telling you," Hidan sniffs.

"Then Dracula it is."

The Jashinist glowers at him. "...Hidan."

"Nice to meet you," the boy says dryly. "I'm Hōzuki Suigetsu. Not like you care," he adds (he's right). "So anyway, Hidan. What sorta "stuff" you gotta do?"

"None of your goddamned business."

"Are you after someone? Can I watch?" He sounds giddy.

Hidan shoots him an aggravated glare. "What is _with_ you? Fuck off already, kid." He abruptly veers to the left in an effort to jettison him. _He's like a fucking fly._

Suigetsu halts and frowns at his retreating back. "You can't shake me that easily!" he calls, then darts after him, mimicking the priest's turn and easily resuming his position annoyingly close to Hidan's right shoulder. Seething, Hidan resists the urge to whirl and strike at him again, fully aware that he would gain nothing but further embarrassment from doing so, and tries to ignore his presence.

 _Too bad I don't know Lightning Release_ , he muses darkly.

"Mind if I tag along?" Suigetsu queries.

" _Yes_."

"Don't worry, I won't get in the way. I might steal your scythe if you get distracted, though," he says nonchalantly as if Hidan hasn't spoken. "I'm a prodigy in the art of murder, FYI, so if you wind up failing miserably at killing whoever you're after, I'll jump in and finish the job."

While the jab at his abilities irks him, Hidan can't help but feel intrigued by that _prodigy in the art of murder_ part. He glances in the boy's direction. "Really."

Suigetsu smirks again. "Yep."

Hidan looks away with a noncommittal grunt, secretly waiting for him to elaborate.

"I'm sure Kisame-senpai's talked about me before," Suigetsu continues loftily, undeterred by the priest's apathy. "My favorite move is dismembering my victims before decapitating them. That way they get to witness how awesome I am at wielding my sword before they die, 'cuz it'll be the last thing they see." He sighs dreamily, as if reminiscing about some of his particularly savage past murders, then chirps, "I love cutting things up."

Hidan is silent as he digests this information, though he's only listening with half an ear. So they have a few things in common. _As long as he stays the hell outta my way while I kill Shikamaru, I don't give a shit what he does._

The forest grows sparse, the verdure thinning out until gaps of another clearing can be seen on the other side. Hidan drops to the ground and races toward the light. He notices Suigetsu slow his pace, lagging behind a bit as though uncertain to leave the safety of the trees, but doesn't pay him any heed. He's just glad to finally leave him behind. _Sissy_ , he sneers inwardly. _Too scared to come out in the open. I bet he was lying about the whole murder thi-_

Once he steps into the clearing, something slams into his back, knocking all the air from his lungs and smashing him chin-first into the ground. He'd been so engrossed in finally getting his hands on that Nara bastard that he hadn't even thought to check his surroundings for danger. He skids along the dirt, feeling his skin catch on pebbles and his palms chafed by grit, his scythe sliding several yards away. Groaning, he pushes himself up and rubs his sore chin, his fingers withdrawing sticky with blood. "What the _fuck_..."

"Gotcha."

A diminutive flash of... _fear?_...causes his heart to falter mid-beat when he hears Suigetsu's low voice from behind him. Twisting around to stare over his shoulder, he sees the boy saunter over to his abandoned scythe, lean down, and pick it up with goading leisure. He inspects the weapon, turning it over in his hands, then raises his eyes to Hidan – who sports a mixed expression of fury and dismay – and cocks an eyebrow with a grin.

"Mine now."

* * *

" _Gimme that, you bastard!_ "

Hidan's roar thunders in the air, so loud that Suigetsu's startled by the intensity; he expects Konoha ninja to come stampeding down the hill any second. The man scrambles to his feet and charges at him like a nettled bull, his mauve eyes wild. Suigetsu allows him to come within a foot or so before he leapfrogs over him, lashing the back of the scythe down to knock Hidan onto his chest again. "Too slow!" he crows.

Hidan spits out a string of vile expletives as he hits the ground, dirt billowing upward. Once he finds his footing, he whips around and – upon seeing Suigetsu fighting to stifle a laugh – releases a livid snarl. "Fucker, this isn't funny!" He launches himself at the Mist ninja a second time, grabbing for the scythe's hilt, but Suigetsu simply raises it above his head; being slightly taller, he laughs in Hidan's face while he struggles to snatch it out of his hand. Hidan finally manages to grip the end of the hilt and yanks it toward him hard. "Give it _back!_ " he screeches.

Suigetsu is perturbed by the man's fierce fervor about the weapon, yet he holds fast. _I'm not giving this up so easily_. Water floods the muscles in his arms, bulging them out to nearly twice their size, so he's able to easily jerk the scythe away.

" _That's is all I have!_ " Hidan continues in a harsh, frenzied voice as he all but collapses on the Mist ninja in his desperate attempt to reach it. " _How am I supposed to kill him if I don't have a weapon!?_ "

Suigetsu is spooked by his behavior. ""Him?"" he echoes, bewildered. _So he_ is _after someone_.

" _Nara Shikamaru!_ " Hidan screams in his face. "That piece of shit motherfucker put me in a fucking hole in the middle of the forest where no one could find me for Jashin knows how long. I had to eat fucking _bugs_ and _moles_ so I didn't _rot!_ _He blew me apart!"_ He shakes Suigetsu violently by the shoulders. The Mist ninja stumbles backward with the force, but Hidan crowds him again. "I was buried alive with the rest of my body in the deafening silence and cold mud while those goddamned deer pranced around above me. Kakuzu died, then that ugly freak Zetsu came to tell me I was kicked out of the Akatsuki!"

He pauses to gasp for breath, nearly hyperventilating. His pupils are flared so huge they almost engulf the irises. Sweat rolls down his flushed face, lips twitching and eyes ticking in his hysterics. "And you know what?" He pounds on Suigetsu's chest. "I'm gonna skin that bastard alive! I'm gonna make him scream and beg and cry for mercy! I'm gonna dismember him, starting with his fingers and toes! I'm gonna stab him where it hurts most, I'm gonna play with his guts, I'm gonna bathe in his blood! But I'm not gonna kill him until he _faints_ from the agony! Then I'll cut his fucking head off and wear it around my _neck!_ _Fuck_ him! _Fuck_ that fucking motherfucker, that...that... _GRAH!_ " He utters a frustrated snarl, jerking away from the Mist ninja as if burned.

Suigetsu is stupefied. He has absolutely no idea what the hell this man is yelling about. _Yeah, definitely just snorted fifty lines of cocaine,_ he jokes to himself weakly. While it's blatantly obvious that whatever it is that upset him so badly cuts terribly deep, Suigetsu still assumes that he's just a plain lunatic, because the story he's spewed sounds like a drug-induced hallucination. He stares dumbly for what drags out into a full minute, their eyes locked as Hidan pants, trembles, and breathes in short hisses through his clenched teeth, and notices with a lurch of his heart the stitches encircling the circumference of the man's neck.

 _...Holy shit._

A faint chill crawls up his body.

 _He's-!_

Smothering the alarming thoughts that immediately begin to swarm his head, he swallows. "Well..." he says tentatively, forcing himself to grin like this was no big deal, "why didn't you just say so?"

And he offers Hidan his scythe.

Hidan eyes his grinning face uneasily for the longest time, a disbelieving frown darkening his gaze. Then he slowly takes it from his outstretched hand without a word.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

 **DAMN was it nerve-wracking to write Hidan's breakdown. I want them both to have PTSD to an extent, where Hidan's is more severe as he's a bit emotionally unstable. Suigetsu will later deal with his past in Orochimaru's capture while Hidan will deal with his being trapped in the hole for so long.**

 **Speaking of that, do you think I made his predicament underground too lighthearted in the first chapter? I want to try and keep Hidan's suggested borderline insanity canon in this fic, and make his PTSD volatile in which it exhibits itself in violent bouts.**

 **Thoughts? Advice? Corrections? All is welcome!**

 **(Also, I'm so glad this pairing is well-received, even on the other sites I posted it to! Thank you all for being so kind and supportive!)**


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